


Free of Phelps

by ArcheaMajuar



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Established Relationship, Just some dialogue and a bit of domestic fluff, M/M, Set after Phelps got promoted to Homicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24473233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcheaMajuar/pseuds/ArcheaMajuar
Summary: "It’s been a very successful day for the Traffic and I couldn’t be prouder of my boys. Especially of my most precious one.”“Phelps?” joked Stefan and earned a painful groan from his boss, friend, and lover.
Relationships: Stefan Bekowsky/Gordon Leary
Kudos: 6





	Free of Phelps

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother tongue as I'm from the Czech Republic. There are mistakes in the story, I know, but I don't have anyone around to give me their feedback on the fic, grammar and so on (but if you'd like to let me know about the mistakes, please, do so in the comments bellow or just send me an email (you find it on my profile page), it'd be much appreciated)
> 
> I'm really sorry for the errors, but I hope you'll enjoy this work anyway :)

It was about midnight when Bekowski stood up, paid up, and said his goodbyes to Phelps who seemed to be utterly mesmerized by the local star, Elsa Lichtmann. However, to Stefan’s mild surprise, his younger colleague offered he would join him in front of the bar, apparently decided to go home as well. Therefore, Bekowski was waiting up for him, lightning up a cigarette and watching the night streets, and then he nodded at Phelps once he appeared, smirking on the inside how gloriously the cop’s eyes were shining.

“I’m going home, Phelps. On foot, so if you want…” Bekowski started, nudging his head in the direction the both of them lived.

“Yes, I’ll walk with you,” was the younger man eager as usually, “It’s been a long day, but I could use a bit of fresh air.”

“How have you enjoyed the celebration of your promotion?” asked Bekowski as they ventured down the street.

“It’s been good,” shrugged Phelps, and Bekowski snorted, but before he could add something, Phelps elaborated on the topic, “Elsa’s performance was astonishing, but that cop… Ray… He’s an asshole.”

“He’s of the worst sort of cops,” Bekowski agreed, “But with the speed you’re climbing up the ladder, you’ll encounter him sooner or later at the Vice. Of course, only in case you’d get tired of the Homicide Desk.”

They plunged into silence for a while as Phelps was probably pondering Stefan’s words while Bekowski was just savouring his cigarette and the fact that Phelps wasn’t going to be around Traffic anymore. It wasn’t like he despised him, not at all, but he was too keen and too smart. He’d eventually figure out something about him, which Stefan definitely didn’t need.

“That’s the reason you’re still hanging around the Traffic lot? I know you’re capable enough to climb up some ranks,” was Phelps thinking aloud, and Stefan heard the genuine interested within his voice.

“Yeah, you could say that,” agreed Stefan partially. “But I’m not a careerist in the first place, Cole,” he shot Phelps with a bit sarcastic look, “I don’t care about social position and shit like that. The guys at the Traffic are good guys with big hearts, and think me a naïve fool, but that’s something I can appreciate. Moreover, our boss is hell-of-a great man to have around, so… yeah, in my case, it’s more or less about the people I’m working with here than about anything else.”

“So you don’t mind being stuck with the Traffic for the rest of your career?” was Phelps unable to understand Bekowski’s motives, but…

“No, I do not, golden boy,” shook Stefan his head, looking right in front of himself, smiling a little. “I certainly do not.”

XXXXX

A few years ago, there was a promotion ahead of Stefan Bekowski as well, but the whole process was postponed due to danger Stefan put himself into when solving that particular case. Three of the goons weren’t arrested, and once one of them shot Bekowski in his own apartment a week later, the Traffic department assumed it would be for the best to hide Stefan somewhere until the rest of the gang would be behind the bars.

And Stefan, being a rookie back then, didn’t protest when his boss Leary offered him to stay in the currently empty and a very modest house, joined to his own. In order to be able to inform themselves about anything suspicious in a span of seconds, they installed a fake wall in their bathrooms, being located exactly next to each other with just the wall parting them.

Like that, they lived for a month before the two criminals got shot by Leary, however, neither Bekowski nor Leary were about to suggest that Stefan should move away. There wasn’t a single reason to as they got quite well along. Maybe too well.

Thus, parting with Phelps in front of his house, Stefan continued walking towards the joined houses he occupied with his boss Gordon Leary. Getting inside, he took off his hat, shoes, and jacket, and through the bathroom he headed for the kitchen in the second house.

“Anything in the fridge for me?” he howled from the kitchen to the living room where he heard the sounds of television from.

“Some beans with roasted chicken. There’s some coke as well,” was the answer, and Stefan with a hungry grin devoured everything remaining of the meal before he drank a glass of water. Coke wasn’t the best idea as he desired to go to sleep in an hour or so.

With a loud burp, he returned to the bathroom, had a quick shower, and while his hair was still wet, and just in a pair of underwear, he slumped on the coach right next to Leary in his pyjamas, placing his head upon his boss’ shoulder.

“You’re okay?” he asked instead of anything else, even though Gordon seemed alright.

“Yes, I am,” Leary looked at him fondly, slipping his arm behind Stefan’s back and hugging him loosely. “It’s been a very successful day for the Traffic and I couldn’t be prouder of my boys. Especially of my most precious one.”

“Phelps?” joked Stefan and earned a painful groan from his boss, friend, and lover.

“Shut up about Phelps, will you?” Leary rolled his eyes, yet he relaxed when Stefan put a palm upon his stomach, drawing him into a more intimate embrace. “He’s a great detective, okay, but he’s no genius, no saviour, no… he’s not you,” said Gordon, love flickering in his eyes as he looked down at his boyfriend again.

Bekowski would’ve never admitted it, but Stefan needed to hear that after all the praises Phelps kept receiving while nobody even looked at him as if he wasn’t worth their attention, but… but with Gordon at his side, with his support… he felt great. He felt loved. He felt complete.

“It’s quite fortunate he’s got promoted so quickly, don’t you think?” Stefan raised his eyebrows as an intriguing thought crossed his mind. Gordon could’ve been quite a cunning man when circumstances required it, and keeping their relationship secret was definitely a rather special one.

“Maybe,” smirked Gordon, unabashed about what he had orchestrated in the past two weeks. “I’ve talked about Phelps with some people at the Homicide Desk and they already seemed to be interested in getting him on their team, so… It wasn’t that hard to get him promoted. I admit he started to get on my nerves with all his wits.”

“Tell me about that,” couldn’t Stefan agree more. “He’s been suspicious recently, and it wouldn’t take the whole month for him to discover us… Well, he’s smart, but somebody’s been smarter,” he added, leaning into his lover and once Gordon smiled at him knowingly, their joined their lips in a soft, slow kiss they enjoyed while being caught up in each other’s arms, while being sure that no Cole Phelps was around anymore to stick his nosy nose in their private matters.

**Author's Note:**

> I might write a prequel somebody...


End file.
